I introduced him to everyone as "a new friend," but my mom, sister, and a few friends all came up to me at various times to find out what the real deal was, saying they could sense something between us.
Suffice it to say, no one was surprised when we officially announced our couplehood the weekend before Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
"But we've spent plenty of one-on-one time together since then," he counters with a smile I fall more in love with every day.
"We sure have." I lift my champagne flute. "To the best six months of my life, to you agreeing to celebrate Christmas in July?—"
"On the condition that I get to tease you about it mercilessly."
I smile. "But of course. And to your new job. Cheers."
"Cheers," he says.
We clink glasses as the city lights twinkle beyond us from my back deck. I take a sip of champagne—alcohol free, naturally—and enjoy the crisp, bubbly sensation of it sliding down my throat, contemplating when the right time might be for what I want to say tonight.
Darby thinks this is a combined six-month anniversarywithChristmas in Julywithcelebrating him getting hired by a major streamer to write on Jennifer Anniston's new show… He doesn't know I have something else I intend to bring up.
I take the first step toward steering the conversation in that direction.
Circling the rim of the flute with my index finger, I ask, "Things with us aren't moving too fast for you, are they?"
He aims those perfectly uneven twinkling blue eyes at me. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, we have moved pretty quickly."
"True. We haven't spent a day apart since Christmas Eve."
"We said our firstI love youson Valentine's Day, right at this very table."
"I moved in here a month after that."
Yep, I'm doing it. This is my shot.
"And a few months after that, on a warm July night, I asked you to marry me."
He blinks a few times. "W-what?"
I click the remote and Taylor's "Sweet Nothing" fills the air. I push to my feet then drop to my knee, pulling out a small box from the inside pocket of my blazer.
"I know this is all happening really quickly, but when you know, you know."
I stare up at him, my heart overflowing with love, joy, and certainty that what we've stumbled upon thanks to an electrical malfunction on a fitting room door lock and an arguably inappropriate gift from a well-intentioned best friend, is the realest, purest love I've ever known.
"You're special and talented and strong and beautiful. You make me happier than I've ever been in my life. So…Darby Cash Adams, will you marry me?" I open the box to reveal a three-carat emerald-cut diamond in a platinum setting with baguette side stones. "And just so you're aware, if you say no, I may resort to singing."
Tears spring from his eyes, and he covers his mouth. Not before he gushes, "Omyygod, of course. Yes!"
With trembling hands, I manage to place the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Darby stares at it for a minute, blinking through the tears, then pulls me up with him as he stands.
"I love you so much," he says, gazing up at me.
I swipe my thumb across his tear-stained cheeks. "I loveyouso much."
We kiss, our mouths melding as one.
It's not only been a short ride, but a wild one. Not just for us a couple, but we've both had so much happen in our individual lives, too.
In addition to Darby scoring his amazing job, his parents reached out a few months back and said they wanted to find a way for them all to reconnect. Darby was elated but cautious, and I'm hopeful they'll find a path forward.
